mind and forgot them; and she taught her children her kindly way,
and from her we learned also to be brave and prompt in time of danger,
and not to run away, but face the peril that threatened friend
or stranger, and help him the best we could without stopping to think
what the cost might be to us. And she taught us not by words only,
but by example, and that is the best way and the surest and the
most lasting. Why, the brave things she did, the splendid things! she
was just a soldier; and so modest about it--well, you couldn't help
admiring her, and you couldn't help imitating her; not even a King
Charles spaniel could remain entirely despicable in her society.
So, as you see, there was more to her than her education.



CHAPTER II


When I was well grown, at last, I was sold and taken away,
and I never saw her again. She was broken-hearted, and so was I,
and we cried; but she comforted me as well as she could, and said
we were sent into this world for a wise and good purpose, and must
do our duties without repining, take our life as we might find it,
live it for the best good of others, and never mind about the results;
they were not our affair. She said men who did like this would have
a noble and beautiful reward by and by in another world, and although
we animals would not go there, to do well and right without reward
would give to our brief lives a worthiness and dignity which in
itself would be a reward. She had gathered these things from time
to time when she had gone to the Sunday-school with the children,
and had laid them up in her memory more carefully than she had done